Lonely Souls
by Sfortuna
Summary: That very moment when it was Simon's hand wrapped around the hilt and Kable's hand around his, both of their muscles straining against Castle's control, the sweat trailing out of their hair...It was pure synthesis. All aboard the good ship Sable.
1. There's A Time And Place

**Lonely Souls**

**-Sfortuna**

**-Gamer-**

Simon didn't know what to do anymore. It all just sort of fell apart after Slayers.

Well, it wasn't quite that dramatic even though Simon did help Kable kill Ken Castle. Murder. More like self-defense to put it in legalese. Castle's death wasn't like the deaths of hundreds that Simon had technically masterminded if not actually committed. It was like he and Kable were really working together, were one, like the Nanex intended. It was the complete melding of their minds and bodies as they worked in tandem to bring the knife around and shove it into Castle.

That moment. That very moment when it was Simon's hand wrapped around the hilt and Kable's hand around his, both of their muscles straining against Castle's control, the sweat trailing out of their hair and down their temples to drip to their shirts and grimaces of strain on their faces. It was pure synthesis. And even though Simon was a teenager, overly cocky and full of shit, he knew that when he lost that connection to Kable as the Nanex was officially turned off for everyone everywhere he lost something great.

"Hey Simon! Heads up!"

Simon looked up just in time to catch an action figure. He turned it over in his hands and examined the plastic replica of Kable.

"Pretty cool huh?"

"What the hell is it?"

One of Simon's very few non-interweb friends, Mason Heiser, sauntered through the thin crowd with a smile on his tanned face and a sparkle in his dark eyes. His limp book bag hung off of one shoulder and gently bumped against his side as he came even with Simon.

"It's an action figure, duh! Jesus, just because you got to stay home all the damn time doesn't mean you can forget about us mortals in the real world." Mason laughed as he poked Simon in the shoulder. Mason was a little shorter and stockier than Simon's slim 5'8 frame.

Simon stared at the face that had become as familiar as his own in the time period that he had played in Slayers. The eyes, the jawline, the hair... he snorted and tossed the figure sideways for Mason to catch.

"So? Slayers is dead, and Kable might as well be. No one's seen or heard of him since Castle's death." he said and started to walk in the direction that Mason had come from.

"There've been all sorts of rumors so technically he isn't quite gone and forgotten. But I know what ya mean." Mason easily kept up with Simon's strides as they navigated the high school hallways. "Anywho, Kable is still a hit. After that expose from Gina Parker Smith he's like a frickin' hero."

No one bothered them as they made their way down the corridors to the exit. Before Simon had left high school (with the understanding that he would do his work electronically) to focus more fully on Slayers he had been incredibly popular. Everyone saw his stats and how they soared with each match. And even after he stayed in his private wing of the house kids from school still bothered him, though they were of much lower priority than the girls that would show him their tits and/or pussy and try to bribe him. But now things were different. Simon Silverton was still an incredibly popular dude, but no one really talked to him anymore. What was there to say? The media had tried to find out where Kable had gone through him, so had the girls that showed him their bodies and everyone in between the two groups.

Mason knew that something was up; something had been up ever since about the 14th or so win via Kable in Slayers. Simon still played great, still let the fame go to his head, still ate his crazy sandwiches, but something was up with him. And with the loss of Slayers and his return back to the real world it became even more obvious.

"So what's up man?" Mason asked as they stepped out into the late afternoon smog and traffic.

"Nothing." Simon replied, head tilted down.

"C'mon bro, don't sandbag me. You haven't been the same. Not for a while."

The hustle and bustle of the city swirled around them as Simon grabbed Mason's jacket and pulled him to one side of the sidewalk. It wasn't near private but no one ever paid attention to two boys, especially not around the time that schools let out.

"No one understands, not even those punks that couldn't come anywhere close to my record." Simon started, his blue eyes blazing with excitement. "Slayers was more than just blowing shit up and killing the other guys. Course that's all I thought it was for a long time, but even I make mistakes."

"Dude, the hell are you saying? You had an existential experience or what?" Mason exclaimed.

Simon shook his head, "No, no, something even better. It was like me and Kable were one person, Mace, one person! I became Kable, Kable was me, we were the same person, physically and mentally."

"That's the Nanex bro-"

"No it's not! It wasn't like that at first! It was just like any other FPS, only more real. This was... this was perfect." Simon sighed out the last three words and slumped as they left him to hang between him and Mason.

For a minute they stood there with the words hanging around and city folk passing them by. Mason eyed Simon like he thought Simon might have finally lost it; Simon eyed Mason like a man desperate for someone to finally understand and accept. Mason crossed his arms and leaned his back against the dirty brick wall, breaking eye contact, and spat onto the concrete earning an obligatory curse from some delivery boy on a bike.

"Shit man. Shit."

"I know, Mace, I know."

"I don't know what you need anymore man and whatever it is I know it's something I can't give ya. But I do know that Slayers and Kable have royally fucked with ya."

Simon shrugged, getting ready for the brush off. He may have gotten popular and famous, but he was still a teenager and he still had some sense of how stupid and nuts he sounded. And no matter how many times he rolled the words around in his head and the tactician side of him said to shut that shit up, he couldn't let it go.

"Listen bro, I think there's only two people who could set this right in your head, and one of them is dead. If I were you, I'd put those crazy mad skills to work in finding Kable. Cause according to you, the other Slayer-players don't know jack."

Looking at Mason, Simon knew that his friend really had no idea, no clue, as to what was going on. They were only seventeen, two seventeen year olds just playing video games and looking at porn on the interwebs. They could talk all day about software, ammunition, guns, the pros and cons of a game, even the social structure of high school. They knew next to nothing about emotions and how to navigate them; usually they either ignored or just pushed on as best they could. But Mason did what Simon was too afraid to do: acknowledge that what Simon felt was just too heavy for them and he needed real help.

Mason pushed off the brick and turned to face Simon, holding his hand out.

"I'll see ya Monday man." He opened his fingers, the Kable action figure lying prone on his palm. Simon reached out and took the mini copy. Mason slapped him on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd while Simon turned the figurine over and over in his hands. The clothes were the usual cargos, boots, t-shirt, and tactical vest with belt. There was no weapon in his hands, but his fingers were curled like there should be one. The forearms had carefully defined ridges of muscle and the biceps bulged, Kable's face held that stony glare of concentration and four day old stubble.

It was a figure that Simon knew as well as his own.

**-Gamer-**

Simon spent most of the evening and almost all night sending out search bots and scanning the news for any and all rumors. Everything that he found was full of crap. He dug and dug, searching through every clip or blurb that had "Kable" in it. Dead ends, all of them. He used every program he could think of, hacked a little, and scoured the interwebs.

Nothing. It was all useless.

He lay in his room, surrounded by screens flipping through hundreds of sites a minute, and fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning. The room automatically dimmed when it sensed the lowered respiration and heart rate of its occupant but continued with the protocol that Simon started earlier.

Simon dreamed; his head full of Kable and blood and running. Dressed in sweats and a plain white tee he ran through endless Slayer maps, all ones he had taken Kable through alive and never unscathed. He didn't know why he ran, no one chased him. As a matter of fact, the only other people he saw were the Kibbs. The moment he thought of them as 'Kibbs' someone would start yelling, and then they would all yell at him, screaming, "We're people! We're people Simon! HUMANS! HUMANS! _HUMANZ_!" And then he would think of them as regular people and the yelling would stop, until he slipped up again and think of them as Kibbs and it started all over again.

On the orange floor, Simon twitched a little as the screens kept scrolling through and occasional matches would be pulled off to the side for him to look at later.

But in his head Simon ran and ran and ran and sweat ran down his face and into his eyes and stung and he went slower and slower and he looked down to see why his feet wouldn't move so quickly. He wasn't barefoot anymore; he wore heavy combat boots with green cargos tucked into the tops and a heavy black tac vest with ammo and a sidearm. The vest and the shirt under it swallowed him, obviously made for someone bigger and bulkier and if his belt wasn't attached to his vest his pants would have fallen clean off. The weapon he cradled had to be close to twenty pounds.

"Kable! Kable! Please, Kable!" Simon yelled and tripped around in the thick sand. He fell and ate the very stuff that hindered his feet with unfamiliar shoes.

"That's not my name."

Simon looked up at a serious Kable, in plain clothes.

"What?" Simon asked, not bothering to wipe at the grit in his face.

"That's," Kable put one knee close to where Simon's outstretched arm clung to his weapons handgrip, "Not," and then he leaned down with one arm stabilizing his body on the upright knee and rested his free hand in the dirt by Simon's opposite shoulder. "My," and Kable's face was so close to Simon's that the teen could pick out individual whiskers and the swirls of green and grey in the eyes.

"Name."

Simon jerked upright and wiped at the drool on his chin as the ambient light slowly rose and the screens undimmed. He stared at them all, at the miniaturized results, at the continued search, and smacked himself on the forehead.

"Dammit!"

He swung his left arm around and all the action halted.

"Delete! New screen!"

Everything blanked to a calm sea blue except for one square with a black line and a question mark.

In fifteen minutes Simon found the criminal record of one John Tillman. All the pages had a large red "PARDONED" crossing them diagonally, but the information under could still be read.

"It's not your name." Simon muttered to himself as he spread the pages out to cover his walls so he wouldn't have to flip through them, just turn around. And then he smiled, the first true smile since Kable and he had rid the world of Castle and his egomaniacal machinations. "I'll find you now. John."

He got up and left to make a pistachio and jelly sandwich and let the search programs do their thing.

**-Gamer-**

John 'Kable' Tillman sat in a bar. It wasn't a city bar with thumping bass and grinding bodies but a rural home town kind of bar. A clean place with aged regulars that were related to the younger generation of regulars. Most were laborers of all sorts. Some were guards, or ex-military, or any-other-sort-of-odd-job kind of guys. John was just a stranger, a polite one, that didn't get into trouble and stayed out of everyone's way. The waitresses at the diner that he went to eat at thought he was sexy and an utter gentleman. They lamented the fact that he never smiled.

He drank his scotch and stared at the lone television in the whole bar. This place wasn't exactly information central but it wasn't cut-off from the rest of the world either. He got along just fine with the one news channel that stayed on all the time. Or at least he thought it did; he wasn't there every minute of the day and night.

He caught the bartender frowning over his shoulder and wondered what would elicit such a reaction. The guy seemed nice enough, he certainly had more smiles than John did.

"Kid, you and I both know you shouldn't be here. This ain't the city where your money does all the talking." the bartender said. He sat down the shot glasses that he had been in the middle of putting away behind the counter and stepped up to the bar proper, meaty hands with a lone wedding band grasping the edge for no other reason than to intimidate.

"Hey, it's cool, I just came to talk to someone."

John's eyes closed and he let out a near silent sigh. He may have only heard the same voice on a few occasions, but he knew it. He knew it like his own.

"Simon. What are you doing here." Kable quietly demanded.

He looked over as the tall and slim teen sat on the barstool next to him.

"Listen, mister-" John raised a hand and grinned in a self-deprecating sort of manner.

"I know, I know, no kids. But this one's a stubborn smart ass and I promise he won't have anything to drink. He'll only be here for a few minutes."

The bartender squinted at Simon suspiciously but did nothing. "He does anything, it's your problem."

John nodded in agreement and the bartender went back to arranging his shot glasses. Though instead of turning to see what Simon wanted he returned his eyes to the television.

"Hey, listen Kable. Oh, uh, sorry, John." Simon scratched at his head, unsure exactly of what to say even though he needed to say what he came to say.

John snorted into his scotch and glanced at Simon, this time grinning with real humor.

"What?" Simon asked self-consciously, patting down his hair thinking he had done something funny to it while scratching.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you know my name. But somehow I am."

Shrugging it off, Simon replied, "Yeah well, I needed to find you and 'Kable' wasn't really working all that well."

John continued to stare at the TV, so Simon went on.

"Y'know, I was wondering, seeing you sitting here alone, at 5 o'clock in evening, makes me wonder why you're not with your wife. And your kid, don't you have a little girl too?"

Simon regretted his words almost instantly; John stiffened and finished off his scotch in one swift gulp.

"Hey, uhh, sorry man. I didn't mean to stick my foot in it or anything..."

"Why did you come here?" John asked, moving the empty glass away with his fingers and reaching for his wallet with his other hand.

"Well..." Simon muttered indiscriminately into his hoodie and twisted the hood tassels with his left hand. John put some money on the counter and turned his body and full attention onto Simon. "You remember that night, when we killed Castle?"

John nodded, not giving anything away.

"Ever since then well, hrm, it's been, mmmm, different. Y'know?" Simon watched John eagerly, hoping the older man wouldn't leave him hanging. "That night was fucking crazy, you were fighting Castle, and I had set it up so everyone would see, and then it was not just you but me fighting the crazy dude and then we killed him. It was different."

John knew what Simon was talking about. It was one of the many things that he'd been thinking about as he lounged around and did pretty much nothing with his life.

"And well, I was hoping we could, well, ahhh... fuck it." Simon growled in frustration and stood up. If John was going to humiliate him over what he was going to say then he wanted to take it standing. "I don't feel the same anymore. Everything's changed and I _know_ that it wasn't just the damn Nanex messing with both of us."

"I agree."

Stunned, Simon fumbled around a bit, expecting a fight or laughter or something other than this easy acceptance. "Really?"

"Yes. Really. Now what do you want me to do about it?"

"I... I don't know." Some of Simon's courage leaked out of him and his shoulders visibly slumped even further.

"You don't know. Neither do I. I'm just a guy that got out of prison and found out that his life will never be the same. I'm in the same boat as you kid."

John stood, and while Simon intellectually knew that John 'Kable' Tillman was a big guy it was a whole different thing standing not a foot away from him and experiencing the man for himself. For one thing, John was much broader in the shoulder and chest, with muscles that stood out under his clothes. Easily 6'2, if not taller, with a face that stared right at him unflinchingly. And the tattoo. Simon had never really paid it all that much attention until now. It had faded a little with time yet it still stood out in contrast to the warm skin tone.

Simon didn't have a chance to stare for long. John stepped around Simon and headed for the door.

"Hey, wait up!"

Simon crashed out the door right behind John, following him into the cooling evening. While it was no big city the place did have a healthy population that decided to go outside and enjoy the summer evening and sunset after the hot day. People recognized John and Simon as not being from there, but didn't judge and left the strangers in peace.

"It'd be better if you just went home and got on with your life." John said as he headed down the street towards his hotel. He had no where else to stay while he floated in limbo, at a crossroads and unsure where exactly to go.

"I can't!" Simon flung his arms out in a large shrugging motion. "That's just it, I don't know what's going on but I just can't let the past year go like it never happened! And I seriously doubt that you can either."

John stopped at the street corner. Simon stood next to him, a city kid with sneakers and jeans and a plain hooded jacket (in summer of all times) and slightly messy chocolate colored hair. His skin was pale from staying indoors most of his life but his eyes were a sunny blue. Maybe it was the fact that for all his crass words and family money Simon was just a confused teenager that somehow connected with him on a gut emotional level. Or maybe it was the fact that John liked Simon's sheer nerve and stubbornness.

Traffic stopped and they crossed the street.

"So where does that leave us then? I don't have anything to offer you since you can't play me anymore and win games." John stopped off to one side and faced his follower. "What do you want from me Simon?"

Simon had a lot of words he could have said to that, and one phrase in particular that really jumped out at him. Most of it couldn't be said, not now and probably not ever, but there was one thing that wouldn't be quite so awful. There had been times that he'd wanted to hear this said more than anything else.

"I just want to be your friend. We've been through a lot together. We're definitely not normal and I think that only you and me could help each other. There's no one else like us Kable, no one else in the whole world."

Tilting his head and rubbing at the scruff on his face, John studied Simon. He'd done little thinking in the past God only knows how long, just feeling and coping with those feelings. Most of it was still a mess in his head. And Simon was a big part of it, being the one person he had known through his incarceration.

"People grow apart Simon, especially when one of them is in prison."

Thrown off by this non sequitur Simon blinked rapidly and scrunched his nose.

"Angie went through rough shit while I was away and then Delia got taken... point is we were all played and it left its marks on us. We're all different. Delia had grown so much and Angie had lost so much, we lost that time with our daughter, and I... I was in prison." John shook his head and absently scratched his chin. "Angie isn't the same person I married and had a baby with. Delia isn't the same baby we had. As you said," and here John turned his dark greenish-grey eyes on Simon's bright blues, "_everything_ is different."

They stared into each other; while John may have gleaned a little something Simon got nothing but a dark ache inside.

"I suppose," John sighed as he straightened and let go of Simon, "that this means I should go back to the city. I don't have all of that techno-stuff," he waved his hand as if to brush all the complicated technology in the world aside, "and you can't be coming and going here all the time. Off the top of your head, any place I can stay beside a hotel?"

Blushing, Simon mumbled, "Well, my place would be free."

John chuckled. "You actually own a 'place' do ya?"

"No, it's a wing off of my parents house. But it's private and has plenty of room for another person."

John considered his options; looking for an apartment or living out of a hotel again held little appeal. Both reminded him of where he had just come from and made him miss what he had permanently lost. Why not live with the kid for a while? It would be a new experience, an adventure, if nothing else. Maybe even enlightening.

"You've got yourself a roommate Simon." John said, slinging an arm around the teens slight shoulders and pulling him down the street. "What do you say I move in immediately?"

Surprised that this was actually happening, Simon merely nodded.

"So how did you get here anyway? Or find me for that matter."

**-Gamer-**

John sat up on the large couch that was to be his bed while he stayed with Simon Silverton. It was comfortable and thankfully big enough to accommodate his large frame. Simon had got two fluffy pillows and a thick blanket to make up his 'bed' with, gave him the tour, and said that he was free to have anything in the kitchen but the nut butters. For a spoiled kid, he wasn't selfish with his space or things. Well, except for the nut butters, but that was kind of understandable.

He'd seen the room where the walls and ceiling were all screens and totally interactive with the orange floor. This was the room where Simon had played Slayers. Had played him. When he'd come to that realization John had felt a swell of emotion but he stuffed it down inside and they had thankfully left before anything else could happen.

He only had one bag. Coming out of prison he only had the clothes he'd been wearing when he was arrested and his wedding ring. And the picture. The governments decision for monetary compensation for his wrongful imprisonment was useful and allowed him to buy some necessities. Still, after all was said and done, he only had a small duffel of things with room to spare.

_"Just call me Kable, alright?"_

_"But, that's not your name." Simon slowly replied as he made his sandwich._

_"It's more my name right now than John is. I don't think John Tillman is all that alive anymore."_

_Simon put the two covered pieces of bread together on his plate and went to the fridge. He got the milk out and unscrewed the cap to take a drink directly from it._

_"If that's what you want. I've always been Simon, even on the nets." he shrugged and wiped his mouth with one hand and picked up his sandwich with the other. "A name's a name. You'll always be Kable to me anyways so I s'pose it works out."_

**-Gamer-**

There are very few _Gamer_ fics out there. Makes me very sad :( I wrote this because of gilgameshforeternity's fic "Aftermath." If you've read this then you must go read hers. Now. And review please!

Next chapter on the way out of the factory soon...


	2. There's No Secret

**Lonely Souls**

**-Sfortuna**

**-Gamer-**

Simon stared at Kable and wondered how the hell this happened. It was just fucking shocking. There were no other words to describe the happiness and contentment that wriggled around inside and made Simon smile at his fish as he fed them that morning. And in Simon's hormonal mind it greatly helped that Kable had gone to sleep with only his boxers on, revealing the muscles that had melded with Simon's brains to push him through Slayers. The scars... Simon had only one scar and it didn't show up nearly as well as Kable's.

That feeling of oneness, of being together, a part of Kable, Simon wanted that back. He wanted his perfect moment again and he thought that he just might have figured things out without Kable's help.

_This time as he ran through the Slayers maps his clothes didn't change into Kable's gear. Instead the Kibbs ("Humans! Humans! HUMANZ!") would reach out and pull at his clothing, tearing it until it fell away. He was down to his briefs until they too were pulled away by grasping and insistent hands. They stopped grabbing now that he was naked, but they still touched him. Cold fingers trailing across his arms, his legs, his face, stomach, thighs while he tried to dodge them but only succeeded in moving into another pair of hands._

_Simon was alone. Just like always. Alone and vulnerable._

_"Kable!" he screamed as the people got closer and closer. "KABLE!"_

_He looked over his shoulder - just for a second - but long enough to run into something which wouldn't let him go. He screamed and fought, squirming and wriggling and desperately trying to escape._

_"I'm here."_

_Simon stopped moving and looked up. Kable had his arms wrapped around Simon, pulling him into his chest. His breaths heaved in and out and he grabbed onto Kable's biceps._

_"I am right here with you."_

He reluctantly turned from the figure on his couch and made a bowl of cereal. He decided to leave the box and a bowl out as an invitation for when Kable finally woke up. He really wanted to hang around until Kable did finally wake up, but that would just be damn creepy.

Simon went back to his room and shuffled through his mail. Most of it was boring and/or useless so he deleted it and started to surf around. Mostly he got bored quickly; this had been his routine post-Slayers and it wasn't all that appealing. Hopefully since Kable was now around to stay for a time things would get better. Much better.

Time passed and he lay on the floor watching videos of people doing dumb things.

"That probably hurt a lot more than he let on."

Simon contorted so that the crown of his head pressed into the floor and Kable appeared to him upside down. Still shirtless but worn out jeans had been added.

"Prolly. What's up?"

Kable shrugged and moved further into the room. He laid down next to Simon, one arm behind his head, and watched the video along with the teen. They talk about the videos and Simon even let Kable use the controls.

A screen beeped annoyingly and automatically opened itself.

"Hey jerk! Dad wants to know how your grades are this semester."

"He can ask me himself if he wants to know that badly!" Simon yelled at his sister.

She flipped him off. "Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"Aren't you too?" Simon clapped and the screen disappeared.

Embarrassed but knowing it had to be done, Simon looked over at Kable. The older man had a bemused look on his face.

"Your sister?"

"Yeah."

"She's interesting."

"Don't take anything she says seriously."

"Hmmm."

Simon mixed things up by leaving the site and turning on a movie. The lighting dimmed and Simon pulled over a couple of orange pillows and offered one to Kable. The other man wordlessly took it and rearranged his body into another, more comfortable, position. Simon hardly budged from his spot except to unconsciously move a little closer to Kable.

Simon didn't pay much attention to the movie; he'd seen it dozens of times since it had come out. Kable hadn't since he had been in prison at the time and so he fully concentrated on the screen above them. Simon let his mind wander, not really thinking about anything, but gradually becoming aware of a smell. It teased his nose and made him inhale deeply to try to figure out what it was and where it came from. He turned his head towards his own armpit and sniffed. It wasn't him; all he smelled was the deodorant he'd put on that morning. He turned his head the other way and the smell got stronger. Under the guise of adjusting his pillow he scooted his head closer to Kable and sniffed again.

Kable was the source of the tantalizing odor. A dark, sort of musky but not quite with a hint of sweat, smell. Simon glanced over to make sure he hadn't noticed what was going on, before taking another tentative sniff.

"Be right back." Simon muttered as he scrambled to his feet and walked out of the room. As soon as he passed through the wall he practically ran to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He leaned over the counter, arms outstretched and hands grasping at the marble edge hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "Shit. Shit!"

Dangling his head between his shoulders, Simon stared at his crotch. Obvious to someone who knew what they were looking for, the outline of Simon's erect dick made itself known through his jogging shorts.

"This can't happen right now. Please." Simon crossed his arms on the countertop, lay his forehead on the them, and continued to stare at his recalcitrant cock. "I know what you want, but this is just not the damn time. C'mon! All I did was smell him!" But as any male, and most females, know all it can take is a smell at times. He reached down to adjust himself. Pleasure shot through his spine and sent warm tingles throughout his body. If it was any other day for Simon Silverton, he would have happily indulged himself in masturbation. But not with the real thing so close by.

There was no way he would have the time to calm himself down. No way that he could take the time to deal with it one way or another; Kable was smart, he would know something was up and come looking for Simon.

"Shit."

Taking a couple of calming breaths, Simon stood back up and left the bathroom. He entered his room as nonchalantly as possible and laid back down, only this time with his knees up. This made his shorts bunch up around his waist and hide his erection in folds of cloth.

"Why aren't you in school?" Kable asked.

"I have a guest. Aren't I supposed to keep him entertained?" Simon replied, determinedly keeping his eyes glued to the movie.

Kable snorted, helpless to stop his mind from wandering to obvious inferences.

**-Gamer-**

That evening they shared Chinese take-out. His parents had messaged him sometime that afternoon to let him know they were going on a business trip to Maui and would be back in a week. They told him to keep up with his schoolwork and look after his sister. He'd simply shrugged and told them to have a good time.

"Your parents leave like that often?" Kable asked as he spun lo mein onto his fork.

"Yup." Simon shrugged as he dished more rice over his chicken and vegetables. "Thank God they finally decided we were old enough to leave alone. They always found the worst babysitters ever." he shook his head and shoved a fork full of rice and broccoli in his mouth.

"So tell me, what exactly happened that night?" Kable eyed Simon across the small coffee table to where he sat cross legged on the floor.

About to take a bite of food, Simon instead put his fork back in his box.

"You remember that night. Maybe better than me." Simon reached a hand up and ran it through the hair at the back of his head. He hadn't go it cut in a while and he was still trying to make up his mind as to whether he should let it grow out or not. But at the rate it was growing this time he wouldn't even be his decision, it would be long before he got to a barber.

"When I logged in and used the Nanex to help you out, it wasn't quite like all the other times. It wasn't me using you anymore. We were..." and here Simon blushed, feeling like a moron for what he was going to say, "We were working together. It was like we were the same person with the same thoughts and body."

Kable had paused in his eating to turn his full attention on Simon. Though the teenager hadn't said much, there was a wealth of information in his words. A lot of what he said also melded with Kable's thoughts on that evening. So where did that leave them?

"You and I," Kable started out, setting his empty take-out box with his fork in it on the coffee table. "Are completely different. There's no one else like us in the world."

Still nervously brushing his fingers through his longer hair, Simon nodded. Kable's eyes were dark, drawing a bead on Simon, and his mouth slightly turned down but not quite frowning.

"You and I against the world this time Simon, on one condition." Kable held up his index finger.

"Y-yeah?"

"You go to school like you should."

Kable grinned; the statement bowled Simon over, making him open and close his mouth like the fish in his tank. His baby blues opened wide. And then he threw his arms up and laughed and Kable watched the pale face light up with pure joy and joined in.

That night they stayed up watching another movie in Simon's room. Only this time Simon managed to insinuate himself into the crook of Kable's shoulder. His face turned into Kable's chest, right hand grazing the jeans he wore and left hand tucked under the small of his back. One of the best parts though was that Kable had gone shirtless the whole day; the pale and soft skin of Simon's face came into direct contact with the tanned and somewhat rougher skin of Kable's.

As for Kable, the first light brushes of Simon's hair against his side had surprised him. But the more Simon pushed into and onto him the more Kable got used to his body pressing against him. It was different than Angie, whose long hair would constantly get caught under his arm or stuck in his beard or he would somehow get a mouthful of it during the night. Simon was also as light as he looked; Kable had the idle thought that he could bench press the teenager with no problem.

Kable turned to his side slightly so he could look Simon in the face. He seemed so angelic, face glowing in the near dark, with his long dark lashes brushing against the cheeks that were even softer than they looked. Simon was-

"You're in it now Kable." the man formerly known as John Tillman muttered to himself. He brushed at the messy hair on Simon's head, putting it back into place and taking the opportunity to run a finger around the shell of an ear.

**-Gamer-**

Even though Simon made a deal with Kable, he still didn't believe in school. It sucked. Majorly. It's not that the work was hard (it rarely was) or that the other students were mean (they usually were, even though he was well-known). It was more that Simon was against the inherent Fascism of school and how it bored him to tears and sleep. Of course whenever he had tried to tell his parents that they simply told him that if the work was too hard for him they would get him special tutors.

A small ball of paper bounced onto his desk. He caught it before it completely rolled off and opened it.

**where ya been?**

Simon recognized the writing and scribbled a reply before wadding it back up. The moment the English teacher turned her back he tossed it across the room to Mason.

_home_

They passed the last minutes of the class like this.

**get a good start on finding kable?**

_found him_

**WHY DIDNT YA TELL ME?**

_was busy_

**dude, after school, im hitting you**

Simon smirked; the bell dinged and he gathered up his things for the last class of the day. He walked into the room and as he settled in, totally zoned out into his own little world. Instead of taking notes over The Great Economy Crisis of 2021 he doodled in his notebook. Sketches of guns and hellacious looking creatures were interspersed with amateur attempts to draw the face of the Slayers hero.

At the bell he closed his notebook, having heard none of the lecture, and left the classroom. Mason met him halfway down the hall and grabbed a hold of his hoodie sleeve.

"Dude! Talk!"

Mason danced on the balls of his feet as he kept up with Simon in the crowded halls.

"Not much to say. I found him, we talked, he decided to stay in the city, we spent yesterday together figuring stuff out. Nothin' to it." Simon's shoulders twitched in a bland shrug.

"No way bro, no way am I letting you off with that lame ass excuse. Gimme the word!" Mason urged.

Kids hollered back and forth, teachers attempted to corral their youthful enthusiasm and delinquency, and not a few illegal activities commenced.

"Eh." Again with the bland shrug, "Not much to say. He's staying in the city right now. We talked and we sort of made a deal and now we're figuring things out."

"Sort of made a deal?" Mason punched Simon in the shoulder, to which Simon retaliated by kicking Mason in the shin.

"He'll stick around and help me out so long as I keep up with school."

Mason barked out a laugh, sounding a lot like some stray dog with his weird sound of mirth. Simon snarled and hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders, stomping out onto the street and heading towards his house.

"C'mon, c'mon," Mason wheezed as he caught his breath and trotted to catch up with his friend. "It's just funny! Your parents can hardly keep you in school, I didn't think that anyone could get a hold on ya. Ffffttt! Proves me wrong hey?"

"Yeah well, change happens. Things are different now."

"Fuck me bro! Different is like the word of the month now!" Mason rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and absently pulled his pants up. "Whatever the hell is going on ain't really any of my business, so long as you get back in your headspace. I'm wishin' ya the best man. Later!"

Mason split off and ran across the street, waving behind himself to Simon. He didn't bother to wave back, just continued on his way home. He was happy that things were cool between him and Mason, was happy that he'd found Kable, and was happy that when he'd woken up early that morning to get ready his face had been buried in the muscles of Kable's chest and he'd been surrounded by that scent. Only downside was that the morning erection he sported had been pressed into the hardness of Kable's thigh. Well, that wasn't really a downside, but it had the potential to be.

"Hey Kable, you in?" Simon called as he let himself in.

"Where else would I be? Strip club?" Kable sat up on the couch, a can of soda in one hand and sandwich in the other.

"You never know. I did find you in a bar after all." Simon joked, dropping his bag by the door and going into the kitchen to make a sandwich of his own.

Kable swiveled around to plant his feet on the carpet and Simon came in with a sandwich of his own and sat on the couch with his back against the arm. They talked briefly about school and how much Simon hated it. Kable had a few suggestions on how to make it better, but he had to admit he never had those problems; he'd enjoyed learning (though admitted that he was not academically the best in high school). Next came prison life (it made Simon shiver, the thought of having to always, even when you were asleep, watch your back) and then friends. Kable readily confessed to not being a very popular guy and Simon spoke of the Kable fangirls that had accumulated and hit on him and tried to bribe him for control of Kable.

"That must've been very nice, seeing all that tit and ass." Kable grouched. He'd only had sex once after he got out of prison and Slayers. Only time before that was the day before he got arrested for the murder of one of his friends.

"It was fun at first, but then I realized that I didn't want all those sluts that wanted something from me." Simon licked some of the almond butter off his fingers and brushed the crumbs off his lap. "I'm not blind, some of them were damn hot, but it was just so stupid and got old fast."

Kable chuckled and put his empty Coke can on the coffee table. He leaned over to say something, turned his head to address Simon, and found that Simon had sat up to address Kable. They were blue to green grey eyes, aquiline to snubbed nose, inexperienced to experienced mouth.

The pupils of two pairs of eyes dilated with excitement. Simon breathed a little heavier, Kable's hands clenched, and neither of them made a move to put more distance in between one another. With each breath Simon inhaled Kable's scent, fueling the desire that tented his jeans. He saw Kable glance down, guessed at what he saw, and convulsively swallowed. He didn't know what to do. He only knew what he wanted, but he had no idea how to get it.

"You scared?" Kable rumbled in a low voice.

"No." Simon hoarsely replied through a clenched throat.

"Still feeling like a badass mother fucker?"

"Every day of my life."

Kable grinned, "We're different, Simon, but not from each other. We have the same thoughts," A large, weatherbeaten hand came up and cradled the back of Simon's head, fingers sifting through the strands, "We have the same body." Another hand came out, this one curving itself around a slim waist and teasing the fabric edges of a shirt.

"That mean you're a badass mother fucker too?" Simon squeaked, bright eyes wide and unable to tear away from Kable's darkened ones, body sending off sparks where the hands touched him and betraying the pleasure with a slight tremor running through his limbs.

"You should know." Kable murmured, face getting closer.

**-Gamer-**

Oh yes, I did leave it there muahaha. There's only one more chapter of this, I do believe. Everyone enjoy things so far?


	3. Just Keep On Flying

**Lonely Souls**

**-Sfortuna**

**-Gamer-**

Kable's breath wafted across Simon's face, a precursor to Kable's mouth pressing against Simon's. Kable only exerted pressure, making sure Simon knew that the lips that pressed against him were from _Kable_. And Simon got the message loud and clear as he hesitantly pressed back and gripped the forearm that held his waist, the very same forearm with the delicate cursive tattoo.

Retreating some, Kable eyed Simon's flushed face and cherry colored lips. As if he new that Kable was watching him, Simon licked his lips. The restraints holding Kable's sexual hunger, active for four years of prison life and only somewhat loosed the very last time he had had sex with his soon-to-be ex-wife, snapped. Most of his higher functions immediately stopped and much that remained were his primal instincts.

"Kable?" Simon exhaled as his eyes fluttered open.

"I'm here." Kable murmured in a rough voice, moving the hand that had started to stroke Simon's head to the back of the couch where it gripped the cushion.

"Please Kable. You can't disappear from my life again." Simon opened his eyes, staring straight into the dark green storm of Kable's irises. "You and me right?"

"I promise." Kable growled, fingers tightening into Simon's hip, the short nails leaving shallow crescents.

"You promise this?" Simon asked, letting his fingers run over the tattoo.

The reflexes that saved his life many times in Slayers came into play; before Simon knew what was happening he sat in Kable's lap with the man's other hand covering his smaller one over the tattoo (directly over 'right').

"I promise. I'll fight for you if I have to, but this time of my own free will."

This time when Kable kissed Simon it was with all the emotion that burned him from the inside. Simon gasped into the kiss and grabbed hold of a tattooed arm and a flexing bicep. The skin under his hands and the lips and tongue toying with him only got Simon hotter, putting hormones that were almost always running on high into overdrive. Simon hadn't kissed many people in his life, but what he lacked in technique he more than made up for in enthusiasm.

As they made out Kable pulled Simon in tight against his body: chest to chest, stomach to stomach, and erection to erection. Simon threw his head back, breathing harshly, body shuddering as he felt the evidence that Kable was just as much in this as he was. As close as Kable had tugged his body, Simon tried to shove his hips even closer. Kable wrapped his arms around the slim waist and occupied his mouth on Simon's neck, licking the pale neck with its fine sheen of sweat and nibbling the Adam's apple.

Kable knew this wouldn't last all that long. He was horny as hell from four years of celibacy (farewell sex with Angie hadn't done much for him, especially since he had to be gentle) and Simon was a teenager. These two forces did not lend to staying power for either of them. Grabbing the hem of Simon's shirt, Kable pulled it up and off of the thin torso and threw it to the side. He ran his roughened hands down Simon's front, over his pecs, taking a moment to tweak his pink nipples, down a flat stomach, and tracing the small treasure trail that disappeared into the low-slung jeans. Simon shuddered in Kable's lap, hands bracing themselves at Kable's thigh and knee. And when Kable tugged at the button on his jeans Simon pressed his forehead into Kable's broad shoulder and stared at the hands undoing his pants. He watched as one of Kable's large and very capable hands burrowed under his plain black briefs, both feeling and seeing when it wrapped around his incredibly hard dick.

Simon moaned from deep in his chest, eyelids fluttering shut, hips snapping into the touch as his own hands reached up and grabbed at Kable's shoulders. His body moved sinuously under Kable's touch; Kable's mouth went dry at the utterly aroused and untried teens movements. He removed his hand from Simon's erection, making the other release a high pitched whine of loss, and grabbed him around the waist. From this position he maneuvered Simon onto his back on the couch with Kable over him. Kable quickly tugged Simon's jeans off, the black briefs following soon thereafter. As Kable stared at all the pale skin he had bared within seconds, he noticed Simon's exaggerated blush; the teen's knees moved upwards and he started to turn into the back of the couch.

"No." Kable growled, grabbing Simon's hips and flipping him on his back. "I want to see you. You have nothing to be ashamed of Simon." Kable's eyes raked over the lean muscles and then honed in on one spot in particular. "I think you should be quite proud actually." he smirked.

Simon half-smiled. "Yeah well, I'm not exactly a show-off when it comes to..." As his sentence trailed off he motioned at his body.

"Good. Because the only person that should be seeing this ever again is me."

Stomach full of butterflies but cock still standing strong, Simon reached up and tugged the hem of Kable's shirt. "Can we even this up a little?"

Still smirking, Kable practically tore his own shirt off and undid his belt. Simon pulled Kable's hands away before they could take the belt off and tugged him down to cover his own body. With a little squirming he nestled his dick comfortably in the denim folds. Reaching up and into the short strands of Kable's hair he pulled the other man's head down and kissed him hard. Kable tugged at the bony hips in his hands and ground into Simon as they made out. Kable upped the ante by again grasping Simon's dick and jacking him again.

"Kable..." Simon gasped. Sweat dripped down his temple, gathered in the hollow of his throat, and made his skin shimmer in the dim light.

"Simon." Kable growled, exploring Simon's chest with his mouth and teasing taught nipples with his tongue.

"Man, I'm gonna blow."

"Do it."

"I-I can't. You'll-" Simon's breath hitched as the feeling creeped up his spine and swelled in his gut. "Oh shit."

Kable moved off to one side and sped his hand up, adding a little more twist in his wrist as he reached the head. Simon turned his face to Kable, the movement of his hips becoming even more jerky, training his sweet blue eyes into the storm inside Kable's and gasping for breath.

"K-Kable!"

With eyes and mouth wide open and the flush in his face, Simon came. The blood rushed in his ears, his body felt lighter than air, and Kable was smiling at him. And in those moments of pure and utter bliss, there was that feeling of oneness, of synthesis, of being the same exact person with the same thoughts and body. It was what Simon had been searching for. Only, after the orgasm slowly dissipated and his heart rate slowed, the feeling stayed behind this time.

"You good?"

Simon laughed at Kable's question, feeling more free than he ever had before in his life. Ignoring the mess on his body he twisted right into Kable's arms.

"Your turn."

He had no idea what he was doing. But that didn't matter; all that mattered was him giving Kable what he felt.

Slipping the belt through the jean belt loops, Simon then dropped it to the floor and pushed the jeans down. Kable had gone commando. The surprise made him pause in his mission, but he rallied and took the bull by the horns. Or, more accurately, the Kable by the cock.

The man grunted as Simon jerked him off. The teen, however little finesse he had, still hit all the major pleasure spots.

"That's it Simon..."

They smothered each other in wet kisses and caressed one another. Simon even started to get semi-hard as he pleasured Kable and their skin rubbed together and the sounds went through his ears and the smells (of his own seed, of their sweat, of Kable's own tantalizing scent) wafted in his nose. It was the most decadent thing he had ever experienced.

Abruptly Kable wrapped his hand around Simon's, their fingers intertwining around the red and swollen flesh, and he lead Simon's movements.

"Almost... Fuck!"

Simon watched Kable come. His eyes darted from Kable's dick to his face, feeling the flesh pulsing in his hand and watching Kable clench his teeth against the onslaught.

Their bodies steamed in the sudden near silence, their deep breaths the only sound audible to both. Their legs had wrapped together, Simon's bare and Kable with his jeans above his knees. Their crotches gently rested together, their stomachs and chest in flush contact as they kissed and sucked at each others lips. Their mouths were swollen, Simon's hair was completely mussed and turned every which way, both were sweaty with pearly semen smeared on their abs and lower chest. Flushes were finally starting to fade from their faces as the sweat slowly dried, and Kable tenderly ran a hand up and down Simon's side.

"I think we fucked up your couch." Kable murmured into the shell of Simon's ear as he buried his face in the soft and wet hair of Simon's temple.

"I don't care." the teen muttered into Kable's chest. "I think I'm keeping this couch for the rest of my life."

Too relaxed to fully laugh, Kable simply chuckled. He twisted a little, untangling his legs from Simon's, and managed to squirm out of his jeans and kick them off all the way. He rolled, settling himself dead center of the couch on his back with Simon on top of him.

"Does this mean I can-"

"No. You still have to go to school." Kable answered as he pulled the blanket that lay across the back down on top of them.

"Dammit."

"You'll thank me one day." Kable wrapped them up as Simon snuggled into the larger body beneath him.

"Fuck no."

They fell asleep together, Simon on Kable and Kable's arm wrapped around Simon's waist and a hand in the soft hair of his nape.

**-Gamer-**

"The hell did you do last night? Swing with a horde of strippers or something?"

"Nope."

"Didja play all night?"

"Nope."

"Bro, the hell?"

Simon grinned.

"Shut up and tell me."

"You can't have both you know."

"I hate you."

"Same here."

"Dude."

"Yes?"

"Why the happy face? _Everyone_ has noticed. Even that old bitch that has diarrhea of the algebraic equations."

"Really?"

"Stop avoiding."

Simon shrugged. Mason threw a french fry at him and missed.

"Ugh."

"You sound like a girl."

Mason grumbled and ate a fry instead of throwing it. Simon took a bite of his homemade sandwich.

"We got everything figured out."

A raised eyebrow.

"_Everything_."

"Oh."

Mace blinked owlishly at him.

"Was it good?"

"Hell yeah."

"Good. Now don't get all sissy on me okay?"

Simon threw a handful of potato chips at Mason. Most of them didn't miss.

**-Gamer-**

Kable squinted at the screen, read a few lines, and shook his head. "Next."

Letting out a blustery sigh, Simon moved it to the next ad. "I don't see why you need a job anyways. It's not like we need money."

Kable slung an arm around Simon's shoulders and gently shook. "I get bored without something to do. That was the worst part of prison; there were days where I wasn't allowed to do anything but sit around. Next."

"Get a hobby or something. I don't care if you use the computer while I'm away." Simon flipped to the next add.

"And what if your parents finally decide you need to be let out on your own? Next. One of the worst things is being out on the streets with no food, no place to live, and no way to earn money to get those things. Remember, that kind of desperation is what led people to work as Society members. Next. And that restitution money doesn't mean I can be lazy all day. Next."

"Whatever. I'm gonna go get some pie. I'm sure you can go through these without my help."

Simon stood and headed towards the kitchen. When they'd gone out to pick up something to eat (Kable was against eating nut butter sandwiches with jelly every day) they had passed a bakery with the most delicious looking cherry pie Simon had ever seen in his life. It was the only guilty pleasure he had since he was very upfront with all his other pleasures. Kable had seen how Simon drooled over the pie in the window and had immediately gone inside and bought a fresh one. He could tell by the way Simon drooped his head and shrugged his shoulders that he was embarrassed that Kable had figured it all out rather quickly. Kable had simply smiled.

He cut out a piece, put it on a plate, pulled out a fork, and went back to re-join Kable in his quest for a job.

Kable looked at the plate of pie as Simon sat down at his side.

"Let me have some. It smells great."

Simon took the bite on the fork and got a wicked idea. It wouldn't really be a waste of pie, not in the long run. Plus he had made a mental note of the name of the bakery.

"Sure." Simon got a large forkful, most of it cherry filling, and lifted it towards Kable's face. At the almost last second he tipped the fork and its contents slid down and dripped onto Kable's shirt.

"Well damn." Simon smirked, "You better get that off and wash it before it stains or something."

Kable was shocked. He hadn't seen this side of Simon yet; but he thought he would enjoy what was happening so he followed along.

"Yeah. Sure." Kable smirked back and stripped his shirt off.

"Let's try this again." Simon forked up a more modest helping of pie and this time let Kable eat it.

"Tastes better than it smells."

"Hmm, I dunno. Lemme try what you had."

Just as Simon leaned forward a new screen popped up and beeped.

"Holy shit! What are you _doing_?"

"Don't you knock?" Simon replied.

"I didn't know your tastes had changed from little girls, _Simian_."

"I'm eating pie, do you mind?"

Simon's sister stared at Kable, squinting suspiciously through the highlighted hair that covered most of her face.

"Don't mind me, I'm just taking Simon's cherry." Kable grinned as he dipped two fingers into the mess of pie on Simon's plate and pulled out a whole cherry. Grinning wickedly, baring all his teeth, Kable delicately plucked the cherry from his own fingers and slowly savored it before he swallowed. "Tasty."

Simon's sister blushed a red almost as dark as her highlights; Simon clapped before she could say anything and her screen disappeared.

"Now that was very bad ass." Simon commented as he took another bite of pie.

"I know. Now back to the job hunting slacker."

"Hey, I'm the best known gamer in the whole fucking world. Show a little respect." Simon sat up straight and set his now empty plate to the side.

Kable moved almost faster than Simon could recognize what was about to happen; he took the teen to the ground, straddling Simon's waist and pinning his hands by his head.

"You have to earn that respect, Player." Kable growled and bit at Simon's neck.

"I'll earn that and a whole lot more. So what's the game?"

**-Gamer-**

The End. Not. No, forrealz, I'm putting in an epilogue. I can't help it.

I wanted this done like four days ago but I had tests and an annotated bibliography (and if you don't know what that is, thank your lucky stars!) and the week just kind of sucked a lot.

So. One more chapter. I swear.

Thank you readers for the wonderful reviews! I love each and every one of them very much! It just make my day when I woke up, went to school, got on my laptop, and found a review alert. Major warm fuzzies.


	4. I Know You

**Lonely Souls**

**-Sfortuna**

**...Epilogue...**

Kable woke up bleary eyed and confused. Not confused because he didn't know where he was; he recognized the blankets and room and the person sprawled across him. Confused because he had no idea how he came to be in this room. The last thing he remembered was being at a bar and then...

"Shit."

Carefully maneuvering Simon off his body and making sure the covers were over him, Kable slowly sat up to keep from aggravating the thumping in his head. He eased out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Not bothering to turn the lights on he took one of the longest pisses in his life and tried to piece last night together.

First: the bar. He had decided to go out and drink while Simon ate dinner with his parents; apparently they came together once a month or so to catch up in person and let Simon know they had deposited more money into his account. So Kable decided to drink. Second: a guy. Someone incredibly drunk had recognized him and thought that they could take him on. Kable had actually tried to get the guy to calm down, but the other man was inebriated and incredibly stupid. Third: Simon. Kable had let Simon know where he would be in case Simon got home before him. Simon decided to drop by the bar and see if Kable was there so they could ride back together. Fourth: the punch. The drunk guy saw Simon trying to get close to Kable and pull him out of the fight and decided that he would stop the young man by punching him in the face. Of course Simon dropped like a rock. And of course Kable saw red. Fifth: the police. The bartender had seen things going south fast and had called the cops, who managed to pull Kable off the dumb shit that had punched Simon and gotten Kable incredibly pissed off.

Thankfully, everyone there had been on Kable's side. Whether it was because of _who_ he was and not because he was in the right was a different story.

He stared at himself in the mirror. The damage to his body was minimal: a cut on his forehead, a few body bruises, and then the cut up knuckles. Kable sighed and washed his hands, cleaning the cuts on his knuckles from whatever might have gotten into them while he was busy taking care of Simon.

Kable darted out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, staring at Simon still asleep in the bed. All he could see were his bare shoulders, arms, and the back of his head. He looked like he was due for a haircut as well, the length having grown to where his bangs got in his eyes and the longest part at the back covered his neck.

Kable walked over to the bed and got in as carefully as possible so he wouldn't disturb Simon. Usually the young man slept like the dead but there were some times he slept very lightly.

Bending over the slim form, Kable examined Simon's face. He remembered cradling Simon on sticky bar floor, bringing him out of his dazed state, and watching the black eye blossom. He had pulled him up and taken the ice pack from the bartender and placed it over Simon's cheekbone and eye socket.

Gently, Kable brushed the long hair off of Simon's face and studied the black eye. As ugly as it looked, Simon would live, though it would be painful. When he woke up Kable would have to make up another ice pack and make sure Simon iced it every couple of hours.

"I'm sorry Simon." Kable whispered, tenderly pulling Simon into his arms and spooning up against his back. Simon shifted into Kable's body heat and grumbled but stayed asleep. Kable tucked his face into the nape of Simon's neck where the long hair tickled his nose. He drifted back to sleep like that.

**-Gamer-**

Simon lay on the floor of his computer room with an ice pack balanced on his face. He was somewhat lackadaisically searching through colleges. He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life so he thought it was rather pointless to look for the place that would be the beginning of his future. He and Kable had argued about it numerous times; in the end, as much as he didn't want to admit it, Kable was right. He couldn't live off his parents' money forever, as cool as that would be. So they agreed that he would research colleges and discuss his options with Kable since he didn't talk to anyone else about his life besides Mason, and he certainly wouldn't give the best life advice.

A burst of shouting made him jerk upright and look towards his insubstantial jellyfish door. Not knowing what was going on Simon ran to the living room, where the shouting seemed to be emanating from. As he got closer, he recognized the voices and his stomach dropped out.

Facing off across the coffee table were Kable and Simon's dad, Justin Silverton. At Simon's abrupt entrance the yelling stopped and the two men looked at him.

"Simon! Who in God's name is _this_?"

Justin Silverton was a very average looking man with graying sandy hair and a body with padding. He wasn't ugly, but he wasn't handsome either, having bland features that blended in with a crowd. Yet when angered, Justin had a voice that cut through crowds.

"That's Kable, Dad." Simon nodded toward his lover and uneasily shuffled to his side.

"That tells me a lot! And what happened to your face?" Justin frowned and squinted shrewdly at his only son.

"I got hit last night. It's no big deal, I'm fine."

All Kable wanted to do was protect Simon from whatever Justin Silverton planned to do. He had failed last night, but he wouldn't fail again today.

"Well Mr. Kable, since my son is no help, _who_ are _you_?" Justin asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm a close friend," Kable replied, standing tall with his shoulders straight and eyes staring at the intruder. "And I also used to be Simon's I-con."

"What?"

"Dad-"

"Be quiet Simon. This is between your visitor and I."

Simon's mouth automatically snapped shut; it was just like being a kid again and getting punished for eating a cookie before dinner, or for messing with his father's computer and accidentally destroying important files. Kable caught the look on Simon's face in the corner of his eye and it made him grind his teeth in frustration.

"Now, Mr. Kable, are you saying that you are a convicted criminal?"

"No, I'm saying that I used to be until I was given a full pardon. I was innocent of the crimes charged against me."

"Oh? And how exactly did that come about?" Simon recognized that condescending tone and it made him cringe on the inside.

"When Ken Castle showed his true colors to the whole world, the Supreme Court reviewed my case and _all _extenuating circumstances. They found that I had been under the control of the Nanex at the time and reversed all charges."

One of Justin's eyebrows rose. "Oh, so you're that Kable are you? And my son was your player?"

Kable nodded and inched closer to Simon so that their arms brushed together.

"I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised that you lasted that long. Even though Simon is somewhat lax in his school work he at least does one thing well." Justin sat down on the couch, setting his left arm on the rest and crossing his legs at the knee. "Now, let us get down to why exactly you are here."

Turning to Simon, Kable nudged him towards the couch and went into the kitchen where he grabbed a rarely used chair and planted it across from the couch. With the coffee table in between Kable and the Silverton males, he answered Justin's question.

"It's quite simple; I have nowhere else to go. Simon has been a good friend to me since Slayers, and offered to let me stay here"

Justin stared at Kable for a minute, not saying anything, just sizing him up. Simon stared at Kable as well, but with support. Kable ignored Justin and returned Simon's look with a smile.

"How long do you plan on staying here Mr. Kable?"

"Until Simon asks me to leave." Kable replied, eyes still only for the young man.

**-Gamer-**

"Did you mean what you said?"

Kable opened his eyes and stared at the back of Simon's head. They had gotten into bed not ten minutes ago; it was nearly two in the morning.

"I mean everything I say. But what exactly did you want me to confirm?" Kable propped himself up on his elbow, chin resting in his palm so he could look down at Simon.

Simon turned so he lay on his back, allowing him to watch Kable in return. He put his hands behind his head on the pillow, frowning thoughtfully and biting his bottom lip.

"About staying here until I tell you to leave."

Smiling, Kable moved over Simon's supine body, balancing himself on his forearms so that while he rested on the smaller man he wouldn't squash him with his greater mass. He leaned in and gently touched noses with Simon and playfully licked at the bottom lip that Simon punished.

"I think even if you told me to leave, you'd have a hard time getting rid of me. I'm gonna be with you for a very long time Simon. We promised each other."

Simon smiled and pecked Kable on the lips. Then he laughed as Kable growled and rolled them over on the bed, Simon ending up balanced atop Kable's waist.

"For real?"

Kable held onto Simon's protruding hip bones, thumbs caressing the taught and pale skin just above the ball shorts he wore to bed. He regretted not being able to prevent the bruise that had spread some more across the delicate cheek bone but was grateful that it was only a black eye and not something much worse. In the future he would be much more careful; he wouldn't gamble with Simon's life like Simon had his own. They were both very different people, yet not at all different from each other anymore.

"Yes Simon, for real."

**The End. For Real.**

**-Gamer-**

And this lovely tale now ends. At four chapters. I think that's a record for me... oh wait, nope, five chapters is. Ah well, maybe next time haha.

A warm and very heartfelt THANK YOU to my reviewers: gilgameshforeternity, Missy Padalecki, Horror Cakes, SuperSonicLoveMuffin, snrf, Live4StarWars, 30sec2kiba, , and FoxxFlame. All of your words gave me huge warm fuzzies! Also thanks to the gorgeous actors in _Gamer _that inspired this insanity. Of which I own none of them *sigh*


End file.
